For a long time, I believed that if I wanted a good life in tech, I had to be in the big cities — Bengaluru, Pune, Gurgaon. That was the path I chose, and it led me to Gurgaon where I found ColoredCow and the opportunities I had been chasing. But my perspective shifted after spending three weeks in Tehri. I realized that growth in tech doesn’t depend on the noise and speed of big cities; it often grows more meaningfully in calm places like Tehri.
This is an attempt to put into words what I experienced during that time — weeks that changed how I see work, technology, and life itself. I want to share both the positives and the challenges, not as a travel diary, but as a reflection of how a different environment can bring a different kind of clarity.

The idea of clarity became more real to me in Tehri. I realized it wasn’t just about sitting quietly in front of mountains or enjoying silence — clarity here meant something deeper. The environment itself pushed me back to my own perspective and goal. In Gurgaon, even when you start with a big ambition, the rush of traffic, deadlines, and constant digital buzz slowly drags your attention away. One small doubt can grow into complete misalignment. But in Tehri, it was different. The slower rhythm of life, the absence of constant distractions, even the way mornings began — all of it worked like a mirror, reminding me of what I had come with until the goal felt sharper. Each day, instead of drifting away from my purpose, I felt drawn closer to it. When I talk about purpose, I don’t mean something vague or motivational. For me, purpose meant doing something different, doing something big, and doing something valuable. By valuable, I mean first creating meaning for myself — to feel that I am worth something, that I am building something that gives me satisfaction. That value naturally extends to the people I work with and the place I am part of, reaching my family and friends who are part of my journey. Beyond that, it continues outward, touching others in ways that may be small or subtle, but still real. That is how I see purpose: a circle that starts from within and keeps widening as it moves outward. You might think, “if I’m a hustler, won’t I get bored there? There’s nothing to do.” I can’t speak for everyone, but for me, the biggest hustle I ever did was deciding to go from Gurgaon to Tehri and live there for three weeks. If anyone truly understands the meaning of hustle, it’s not just about running faster in the city — it’s about daring to slow down, face yourself, and still keep building. That’s where I found clarity — not in the absence of challenges, but in understanding my purpose better each day.

The title “Regaining Clarity in a World of Noise” captures exactly what I felt in Tehri. For me, clarity isn’t just peace of mind — it’s a sense of control over your work and your life, the ability to pause, reflect, and act with purpose. Noise comes in many forms. In the cities, it’s the endless rush of life — people running, rarely stopping to see what they are doing or why. Even when someone pauses to think, they often get stuck there, waiting for the “right moment” that may never come, because uncertainty or constraints freeze them. Noise also hides in the tools and conveniences meant to help us: apps that promise to save time but end up consuming more, phones created to connect us but often distract us from real interaction. Yet the phone itself is not the problem. In Tehri, people have phones too, but the environment — the slower rhythm of life, the fresh air, the calm surroundings — naturally creates a clear mind and good mood. In the city, everyone is so busy inside their own thoughts that they barely notice the person sitting next to them, often using the phone simply to keep themselves occupied. I felt the opposite in Tehri. The space to stop and reflect allowed me to regain clarity — to see my purpose, embrace uncertainty, and start moving forward intentionally. It was not about escaping challenges or responsibilities, but about learning to pause, think, and act in a way that truly mattered.

When I first reached Tehri, everything felt refreshing. The calmness, the view, the air — it was like my mind finally had space to breathe. It almost felt like the pause I didn’t know I needed.
But a week later, something changed. I started missing Gurgaon — the energy, the noise, even the late-night chaos I thought I wanted to escape. My days had fallen into a loop — office, room, repeat — and the evenings felt too still. I love going on walks, but in Tehri, the route wasn’t ideal to go alone after dark. So most evenings ended with me staying in, scrolling, or just thinking.
That’s when it hit me — I wasn’t stuck because of the place. I was stuck because I didn’t know how to be still.
And that’s when I realized something important:
Clarity doesn’t arrive like a sunrise — it comes in layers.
It doesn’t always show up when everything feels perfect; sometimes it starts when things slow down.
So instead of sitting with that restlessness, I started asking questions — “Where can we go this weekend?” “What’s good to explore around here?” “What do people do for fun here?”
And slowly, Tehri began to open up. I started exploring more, meeting people, trying small new things. Every little plan — a short walk, a random spot visit — became a way to connect, not just with others, but with the place itself.
Over time, I realized something deeper. For someone like me — who’s still gaining exposure and learning through new environments — I need both kinds of spaces. A city like Gurgaon keeps me active, connected, and ambitious. But Tehri gives me something equally valuable — space to breathe, to think, and to remember why I’m doing what I’m doing.

Now I see Tehri as a place I’ll keep returning to — maybe for 10 or 15 days at a time — to reset my focus. It reminds me of myself, my goals, my health, and the things that truly matter. And every time I come back to Gurgaon, I feel more centered, more focused, and ready to give my best to my work again.
That’s what clarity feels like to me — not an escape, but a return.
One of the subtle but powerful differences in Tehri was the way daily routines supported my energy and mindset. The food there wasn’t just tasty — it was perfectly balanced, full of the right vitamins and minerals, and served at consistent times. In the beginning, I struggled a little with the heavy breakfast, since I wasn’t used to starting my day that early or with that much food. But after a few days, I noticed a real change: my appetite increased, I no longer felt tired or drowsy in the mornings, and I had the energy to focus on tasks without dragging through the day.
It wasn’t that my mental clarity suddenly skyrocketed, but the steadiness of my energy allowed me to engage with work and life more consistently. Walking to the office in the mornings, surrounded by nature’s calm and beauty, felt entirely different from stepping out in Gurgaon — where traffic, pollution, and constant movement hit you immediately. Over time, these small, steady rhythms — food, movement, and the environment — created a cumulative effect. By the second week, I noticed a subtle upgrade in my thinking and mindset: I could see things more positively, approach challenges with calm, and carry a lighter, more balanced energy throughout the day.

But it’s not like Gurgaon is bad. The difference is that in the city, we just have to pay more attention to ourselves. If we make the effort to have a nutritious breakfast with the right balance of vitamins, stay hydrated, stretch in the morning, and maintain small habits consistently, we can bring a little of that clarity and energy here too. After returning to Gurgaon, I tried to implement these changes — adding bananas and dry fruits to my breakfast, drinking more water, stretching in the morning, and arriving at coffee early. It’s a small action, but one that contributes to personal growth. It might not change everything in life, but it makes a difference in my personality, my confidence, and the way I feel each day.
These three weeks in Tehri weren’t a break from work — they were work in a different rhythm. The same projects, the same deadlines — just with more space to breathe, to think, and to see things with a little more distance and depth.
Tehri gave me the space to notice things I usually miss — how much energy gets lost in small distractions, how much peace there is in planning, and how different work feels when life moves at its own rhythm.
Back in Gurgaon, the noise is louder again — deadlines, pings, meetings — but now I notice it differently. I see the moments where I can pause, think, and realign before the rush takes over. That, to me, is clarity — not silence, but awareness.

At ColoredCow, this way of working feels intentional. The hills, the cities, the systems we build — all of it connects back to one idea: creating space for meaningful work and thoughtful growth. A place where clarity isn’t just a word, but a way of working.
Maybe clarity isn’t something you find once and keep — maybe it’s something you keep regaining, again and again, in every new phase, every new challenge, and every new place.
If you’re someone who values that kind of clarity — the kind that comes from doing meaningful work, not just busy work — maybe you’ll find a bit of yourself in this way of working too.